Sprocker is napping right now. He doesn’t seem purrfectly relaxed. He has been less sprocketty than usual today. In fact, hardly sprocketty at all. He’s less agitated than he was yesterday evening, but he has had 2-3 episodes of twitchy agitation this morning. His tail seems to be the focus. He was squirreling himself away in the dreaded basement, but I convinced him to nap in the kitty tree.
He drooled his first dose of liquid Benadryl all over the place. He looked dramatically displeased. I’ve never had such put-upon reproachfulness directed at me before. After all that he has been through in his kittenhood, this is the first time that he has looked truly unhappy and uncomfortable. Poor baby. He barely noticed that he got a leg amputated, but whatever he’s dealing with now has really gotten to him.
The vet told me to give him half of an adult Benadryl in place of the liquid stuff.
Today I learned that “basket case” was slang used in WWI to refer to quadruple amputees. Everything Sprocket does (like doze sitting up instead of lounging in his kitty tree, or napping in the basement instead of upstairs, or just glancing at Chooper instead of pouncing on him) my brain interprets as a sign that something is wrong. I have to get Benadryl and go to the post office. Then I will give Sprockerson his Benadryl and then I will go running and then I will come home and then I will be very calm and very productive and.
OMG. There is a bee the size of an eyeball (a large eyeball, like an elephant’s eyeball) outside the window trying to get in. The Miao House is under siege. Could it be the same bee that I so kindly released to the wild?
Batcat will protect Sprockers while I’m gone.